Off to the Consulate

Don and I spent most of Friday morning and afternoon getting our India visas. The lines were long, and the crowds various degrees of grumpy. You had to arrive between 9:15 and 12:15 to hand in your passport, pay your
cash, and then come back later to get everything.

The consulate is right next to Gianni Versace's former house, but whatever glam the Indians may be hiding upstairs was hidden by fully drawn blinds. You head to the basement for visa and passports. Fluorescent lighting and not enough chairs. I got DMV flashbacks.

According to the six-month visa the Indian government gave me, I'm now a journalist. I applied for a year-long tourist visa, but evidently they didn't think that jibbed with working as an editor. Getting a six-month visa isn't perfect, because the clock starts ticking when you get it, and Don's job will keep him there until nearly the end of July. Not sure if I'm going to travel for a couple weeks after the trip or not -- we'll see.